


Nothing stays secret forever

by Eolyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Hell, M/M, Masturbation, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 9, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:05:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eolyn/pseuds/Eolyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to hold it together after they meet Alistair in the church while protecting Anna. Will Sam understand when he finds out what really happened while he was in hell or will he condemn him for his sick behaviour?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester is saved.

Those were the words ringing in his ears as he flew through the stain glass window of the empty church. Dean's heart was racing as he hit the tarmac below him, his shoulder popping out of his socket. Quickly rushing to his feet Dean grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him to the Impala. Both of them were torn up bad and Dean prayed they make it away.

Back at the motel the boys did the best they could to fix themselves up. Sam was sowing his arm up as Dean washed blood from his mouth. Staring into the bathroom mirror Dean couldnt help but think about who they had met in the church. They had found the girl Anna that everyone, demons and angels alike, where so anxious to have. Dean Winchester is saved.Hearing those words come out of Anna's mouth had sent a chill down his spine. Words he heard in his own mind that day he rose from Hell. Worst of all was the appearance of the one being he had never wanted to see again. Alistair. Even the thought of him made Dean break out in a cold sweat. Glancing back at Sam on the bed Dean could tell that the inevitable was coming. He knew nothing stayed secret forever and his time down in hell was so close to being discovered.

Hell had been unimaginable from the get go. So horrendously painful Dean couldn't help but think about it every minute of every day. Sometimes when he looked at Sam he felt the floor fall away from him and he was back there reliving it all over again. You see Alistair knows Dean very well. Knows exactly how he thinks and what will get to him. That's why in hell Alistair would wear Sam's face when he came to visit Dean in the pit. At first Dean thought he was being saved, that Sammy had finally found him. Up until Sam/Alistair would start cutting into him bit by bit. The physical pain was nothing compared to the psychological trauma of seeing the one person you loved most in the world taking enjoyment from your torture. Later the Sam/Alistair thing would slowly and lovingly put him back together. Sam's hard hands holding Dean like he was the only thing important in the world, his questing lips caressing every wound, healing every hurt. It broke Dean's heart because he knew it wouldn't last, knew it wasn't real. Every fantasy Dean had ever had about Sam, every secret thought he would linger over at night would come to life in the dark, twisted depths of hell and then they were blown to pieces the minute Dean would feel hope. In hell Dean had experienced everything he had ever wanted in life and then Alistair had taken it away from him. And now he was back. Dean also knows Alistair very well. Fourty years in the pit will do that. Dean knows the time to come clean about what happened down there is fast approaching and there was nothing he could do so save himself. Nothing he could do to save Sammy. Dean would give anything to be back in the pit right now then having to confront the shame and judgement on Sam's face. For the first time in his life and even in his death, Dean truly felt doomed.


	2. Be prepared to listen

Turning around to face Sam, he watched his brother pierce his skin with a sowing needle.

'You almost done?' asked Dean hopefully.

'I'm going as fast as I can,' retorted Sam in a breathless voice.

'Good cause you know I've got a dislocated shoulder over here.'

Dean takes a mouthful of whiskey to dull the pain of his throbbing arm. Sammy's response was lost to him with the sound of the liquid hitting the back of his throat. Passing the bottle, Dean watched as Sam poured the alcohol onto his stitches, biting his lips in pain.

Dean tried not to think too much about his Sammy being in pain and quickly tried to take his mind off it.

'So you lost the magic knife did you?'

'Yeah, saving your ass.' snapped back Sam. Sighing in frustation Sam looked at Dean expectantly, 'Who was that demon?'

'No one good' answered Dean trying to dodge the question. His heart was pounding from the searching look on Sam's face. He was dizzy with pain and couldn't think clearly. Now was not the time for Sam to be delving into the situation. Dean had to figure out something to tell him yet, something other than the truth.

'Alright, come on,' groaned Sam as he lifted himself from the bed and moved behind Dean. They position themselves to pop Dean's shoulder back in.

Dean's stomach tightened with anticipation. This was not going to be fun.

'On three, one…'

Without warning Sam snapped Dean's shoulder back into place. Pain shot up through Dean and into his brain causing him to wrap his arms around his head for a moment as he stumbled back into the bathroom.

Sam's penetrating eyes followed Dean. He could tell when Dean was hiding something. He saw it in the flicker of Dean's eyes when he mentioned the demon from the church and the way he quickly brought the topic back to Sam loosing the knife. Something wasn't right with this situation and Sam wasn't going to be fobbed off so easily, not when it involved his brother. Sam was tired of not being in control, tired of Dean taking charge, making decisions without consulting him, even if was just avoiding a question. If this demon knew of Dean then Sam had to protect him. It was obvious that the demon from the church was one mean son of a bitch. Sam was sure he even heard Dean name the demon in recognition while fighting it. They had then jumped out of the window and he hadn't had a chance to think about it since. Now alone in the dingy motel room they had rented he had his chance to confront Dean. No amount of vague answers where going to get Dean out of discussing this.

'Dean, about that demon,' started Sam uncertainly. 'Who was he really because I know you know'. Sam kept his voice to a concerned whisper. He didn't want to put Dean on the defensive. He just wanted to be part of what was going on with his brother. The months spent apart had nearly been too much for him.

Dean's head snapped up and Sam could see his eyes go a little wild. Like he was searching for an escape route. Pity swelled inside his chest for his older brother. This was obviously something Dean didnt want to talk about and Sam knew how hard it was for his brother to confront emotions. He resisted the urge to embrace his brother and tell him everything was going to be okay. Dean Winchester does not do chick flick moments and Sam would only end up feeling mortified.

'Come on man, just spit it out. I'm not going to accept your vague answers this time'

Dean could see the stubborn look on Sam's face. The kind of look a dog gets when it won't drop the bone. Suddenly his headache came back in full force. Dean chugged back the whiskey trying to numb any and all feeling in him. He couldn't talk about hell just now. Not to Sammy. Dean met Sam's eyes for the first time all evening. Worry creases outlined them and made his brother look older. Dean knew he didnt stand a chance against Sam's persistant questioning and he groaned in defeat.

'Okay Sammy, but I don't think you want to hear this.'

Rolling his eyes, Sam gave Dean a pointed stare 'Try me'

Not sure what he was even going to say or admit to, Dean took a shallow breath and started talking, his voice sounding brittle.

'Alistair is a demon who knows me from hell...'

Suddenly Sam wasn't so sure whether he was prepared to hear the story Dean had been hiding.


	3. My Hell became my Haven

Closing his eyes tight Dean tried to block out the world around him. He wanted to forget the smell of the room he was in, to forget the stains on the carpet floor and the blood soaked clothes on the bed. More than anything he wanted to forget the beseeching look in Sam's eyes. Looking at Sammy hurt sometimes. It hurt Dean in a way he couldn't explain to himself let alone anyone else. Looking at his younger brother was like looking at the sun for too long. It dazzled you in the beginning but soon your head would be filled with light that made your eyes ache and your breath short, seeing spots and feeling dizzy. Looking at Sam filled Dean with hope and need, so much so that Dean's heart would burn and he would have to turn away. He was the one constant in his life, the one person who Dean truly loved. And wasn't that what had started all of this?

Dean had been trying his hardest to make sure Sam never found out about hell. He wanted to make everything seem as normal as possible because his brother had been through enough. He had tried his hardest to forget about it himself but with Sam being close to him all the time that was next to impossible. Dean had never wanted Sam to find out about his torment. Never wanted Sam to feel anything he had felt. More than anything Dean didn't want Sam to know how much he had deserved his time in hell and should never have been let out.

 

Sam was wound so tight he was close to shooting out of his chair just to go somewhere. Dean had his eyes closed and the emotions flickering across his face spoke louder than any words could. Deep in Sam's mind a voice warned him to back off, warned him to let it go. He knew he should listen to that voice but Sam knew himself too well. He never listened to that voice. This was about Dean and something was hurting him. Whether this demon or a memory, Sam didn't know but he had to find out because he couldn't fight something he didn't recognise.

A feeling of dread swept over Sam as he saw his brothers eyes open and lock onto his. Dean's eyes burned into him, filled with an emotion so hot and raw Sam had trouble holding it. It was like he was seeing a window into hell itself. Ignoring every warning voice in his head Sam shot out of his chair and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, anchoring the older man. Desperately trying to pull Dean back from where ever his mind had taken him. He ran a protective had down the side of his brother's face, feeling the sweat that had gathered at his temple.

With Dean's name on his lips Sam was thrown back in a hard shove, cool air filling the gap between them.

'I can't talk about this with you touching me Sam,' barked Dean. Dean kept his eyes averted knowing the comment was cutting. He couldn't think about it. He had to get through this. Sam might not even want to look at him after tonight let alone be comforted by him.

Making sure Sam was on the far side of the room Dean sat on the bed and took a deep breath. There was no way to prepare for this and no way to make it less hard.

'It wasn't four months you know,' started Dean in a hesitating voice. 'It was four months up here but down there, I dunno, times different. It was more like fourth years.' Sam face was a picture of disbelief.

'Oh my God' he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Unable to bear Sam talking Dean pushed forward with his tale, his soul suddenly feeling calm.

'They sliced and carved and tore at me in ways you...until there was nothing left.' Dean swallowed more whiskey, hoping the burn of the alcohol would numb every nerve in his body.

'And suddenly I would be whole again, like magic, just so they could start in all over.' Dean's voice was cutting. He knew his face looked as hard and as cold as stone, a contradiction to what he was feeling inside.

Careful to keep his eyes averted Dean shivered silently. He could feel the blades running over his skin; feel the fire in their touch.

'And Alistair would be there every day, watching, helping, and directing the pain.' Dean's voice started to shake, knowing he couldn't prolong it any more.

'And at the end of every day he would make me an offer, to take me off the rack, if I put souls onto it, if I started the torture. And every day I told him to stick were the sun shines.' Dean could see Sam nodding from the corner of his eye. His brother was appalled and torn up listening to this. He wanted to stop but there was no way he could. He needed to say it. He needed for his sin to be known. Needed for Sam to know he wasn't his brave older brother anymore who would look out for him. He didn't deserve to be saved and he needed for Sam to know why.

'Alistair used ever trick he had to make me bend but I wouldn't. He then used the only thing that I had kept locked inside me, the only thing that had been keeping me strong. You, Sammy. The thought of you out there was the only thing keeping me from breaking, and Alistair knew it. He would come to me when all the other demons were gone, wearing your face. The first time I cried with happiness because I thought I was being saved. Then I screamed with rage because I thought they had gotten you too. It wasn't until I felt my skin being torn off that I knew it was all a lie.' Dean paused to take a fleeting look at his younger brother. Sam's face was pinched in sorrow, wanting it all to be untrue and hating that he had been used against his brother.

'He would murmur to me in your voice. You would tell me to give in to it, telling me that you wanted me to end my pain. I think I went mad down there. I couldn't handle the sight of you laughing as the eyes were being ripped from my head. Or worse was when you would hold me and tell me it was over, that you would protect me. Sometimes days would go by with you holding me. Stoking my arms and kissing my face. It would feel like heaven after so much hell. I'd heal in your hands and i'd reach for you, never letting you go. Your lips would move across my body and repair my soul. I would whisper words of love to you while your naked body move against mine. My hell turned into my haven and I didn't want it to end. And then Alistair would come and make his offer and with my refusal the pain would begin again and you would be ripped from me.' Tears glistened in his eyes and Dean was finding it hard to talk around the shame that was building at the base of his throat. Self loathing flooded though him and he couldn't bring himself to look at Sam, fearing what he might see.

'For thirty years I said no Sammy, for thirty years. And then I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand for you to be taken away from me again. And I got off that rack, God help me I got right of it, and I started ripping them apart. I lost count of how many souls...' Shaking his head, tears streaming down his face Dean's eyes rose to the ceiling looking for some redemption.

'The things that I did to them...' unable to continue Dean just fell quiet, encompassed in his grief.

'Dean you held out for thirty years, that's longer than anyone could have' choked out Sam, trying to form the words around the lump in his throat.

A silent sob shuck Dean's body on the bed at Sam's words.

'How I feel, inside me...I wish I couldn't feel anything Sammy, I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing' Dean struggled with the words. His heart was breaking and he couldn't will it to stop dead in his chest no matter how hard he tried.

'I'm sorry Sammy...'


	4. Restless mind

Staring at the limp form of his brother's body lying flat on the bed Sam's mind ran through everything Dean had told him for the hundredth time. And still it hurt to breathe. It had been two hours since Dean's confession and ten minutes since he had finally calmed down and let the alcohol take affect. Sam left like his chest was being constricted by some unseen force, willing the breath out of him and all Sam could think was this is only a tenth of what Dean is feeling. Realising that sent Sam's mind into crazy. If he could barely deal with what Dean had told him how was Dean going to get over actually living it. Sam's mind helpfully supplied images of finding the impala wrapped around a tree or Dean, lifeless with his colt held loose in his hand, bloody. Roughly shaking his head Sam tried to snap out of it. Dean was not going to do that. Not when he was around to help him.

Slowly, against his will, Sam couldn't help but think about the one thing he had been trying to keep off his mind all night. Sometimes days would go by with you holding me. Sam's heart was pounding a deep, echoing rhythm in his chest. It hammered against his ribs, pumping searing blood to his hands. Suddenly thirsty Sam tore his eyes away from his passed out brother and lumbered into the bathroom, drinking deep from the more than questionable water tap. Sam's rational mind kick started slowly. Dean has always cared about Sam. More than that, he had protected him until his dying breath.

Of course Dean had sought comfort in the one person who ever meant anything to him apart from their Dad. Dean had needed him, in every way imaginable and Sam couldn't find a thing wrong with that, though not for lack of trying. He searched inside himself over and over again expecting to be disturbed by Dean's confession but found he wasn't, couldn't be. Dean had gone to hell and back for him. He had sold his soul to save his life. There was nothing Sam wouldn't give Dean. Certainly not any comfort his face had given him, keeping him sane in hell. If Dean had needed the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands, the smell of his skin...

Sam's breath was laboriously steaming up the bathroom mirror in front of him. His eyes were wide and looked nearly black. His skin felt feverish and flushed. Closing his eyes tight Sam shivered as a phantom touch travelled up his spin. With his head sinking to his chest, Sam couldn't hold back the gasp that escaped him as he dropped to the bathroom floor, his legs no longer strong enough to hold him up. The tiles were icy and felt good against his heated palms.

No, Sam could not find any fault in Dean taking whatever comfort he needed in hell to survive. It didn't mean he couldn't condemn himself for liking it. He had wanted me, needed ME! Sam didn't know why that affected him. He knew how much his brother cared about him and tried to protect him. This was nothing different than that. Dean had protected himself, shielded his soul. Sam knew Dean felt all kinds of guilt over how he had done it but that was Dean. He shouldered everything and never gave himself a break. Looking back at his brother's sleeping form, Sam's heart stuttered inside his chest and his nails pierced the skin of his clenched hands.


	5. Tequila makes you happy

Standing outside the shady bar Sam squinted up at the night sky. The stars were shining, laughing gaily down at him. Mocking him more like, thought Sam. Sam's breath was fogging up in front of him, mingling with the dense cigarette smoke. Pulling another drag from his newly acquired Marlboro Sam savoured the feeling of release. Even though he'd only started smoking a month ago Sam couldn't imagine going a few hours without one, especially on the bad days. Today was a bad day for Sam. Alcohol was also a favoured option. Sam had never been a big drinker but since Dean had gone and come back from hell Sam found he was very good at it. Flicking the cigarette but away Sam watched its fiery descent into the bushes. The night air was chilling but Sam didn't mind. He loved the feeling of goose bumps breaking out on his skin and inhaling frost through his nose. Shoving to his feet Sam steeled himself to re-enter the bar. Today was a bad day and Sam needed something to take the edge off.

Settling back into his seat at the bar Sam waved over the bartender. His name was Tony and he smiled a lot, which suited Sam's mood perfectly. A pleasant personality was just what he needed right now. 'I think I'll have another please' requested Sam.

'Really? Alright then, man' smiled Tony, his enthusiasm like a ray of sunshine making everything happy. Tony poured another shot of tequila. It went down fast and smooth and Sam loved it.

'You keep up and I'm gonna have to make a run for more salt and lemons.' joked Tony.

'Well I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon' confirmed Sam.

With the tequila buzzing through his body Sam reflected on the past month. Not surprising to him his mind drew a blank. The more he tried to figure himself out the more frustrated he became. He felt like a child trying to figure out quantum physics, he just couldn't do it. He had never felt so helpless or inadequate in his whole life. The only thing he knew to do was to look after Dean as well as he could, or more appropriately as well as Dean would let him. Guilt radiated off Dean like a hot furnace, lacing every exchange they had with tension. The morning after Dean's confession had started in typical Dean Winchester style, like nothing had happened. They were up and out the door before Sam could think of a coherent sentence. After all they still had their job to do. Unspoken was the knowledge that Alistair was also something that they had to be face. Neither brother wanted to dwell too long on that thought. Sometimes, just when they woke up to a new day, Sam would almost believe everything would be ok. He'd think, 'Dean is going to be fine, he is going to accept that I understand and don't judge him, we are always going to be together.' He'd feel this rush of relief, and then, slowly, reaching up from the pit of his soul Sam would admit to himself he didn't want that. In the quiet of his mind where no one could spy Sam would look at his sleeping brother and feel an emotion so complex his mind struggled to comprehend. He didn't want Dean to change. Sam couldn't deny that Dean's confession had caused a rift between them, but it had also brought them closer together in some way. Sam could feel that if they just pushed a little more they would find it. He wasn't sure what that was or even if it was possible. It felt like a dream you couldn't quite remember or trying to find the source of déjà vu. Of course this never went anywhere. Real life had other plans and every day made Sam feel more wrong. He wished he knew how to fix it.

Sam took a breath to order another shot from Tony when a gust of cold December air interrupted him. Turning in his seat Sam's heart gave a jolt as he saw who entered the bar. Dean had found him.

 

Entering the sleazy, run down excuse for a bar Dean scanned the crowd. He immediately found his target. It was hard to miss something that tall and shaggy. Sighing Dean resigned himself to his task. For the past month Sam had been taking off in the evening and coming back to the motel in the late hours of the morning smelling of drink and smoke. Sam never said a word but Dean never missed the look he gave him before he closed his eyes to sleep. That look kept Dean awake more than any nightmare of hell had. Dean had hoped Sam would tire of it or snap out of. He had figured Sam would break and say something. Feared he'd say something. Dean had waited every night and when Sam stayed quiet he had felt relief mingled with mounting anxiety. It couldn't go on any longer. Sam was hurting himself more than he was hurting Dean and as much as Dean didn't want to face what was going on he could stand by and watch Sam drink himself away. He'd die again before that happened. He wasn't about to let what he had done bring Sam down too. If there was nothing else he could do he could look out for Sammy.

Sitting next to his brother Dean caught the eye of the smiling bartender.

'I'll have what he's having and another for him,' said Dean in a gruff underused voice, tilting his head to Sam who continued to stare at the bar.

'Sure thing dude' beamed Tony.

Soon two shot glasses were before them accompanied by lemons and a salt shaker. Dean felt his surprise flood through him. For someone who didn't drink much Sam sure knew where to start.

'Tequila? Not my first choice but always a good idea. Jesus Sammy, never knew ya had it in ya!' quipped Dean trying for easy and relaxed. One look at Sam and he knew he wasn't going to pull this off with any grace.

'Dude lick your hand and have a frickin' shot already.'

Dean licked his hand and sprinkled salt onto it. He shot a look at Sam to see if he was doing the same when his heart stopped. Dean's eyes travelled the path Sam's tongue left on his rough fisted hand. He couldn't look away and he didn't think he really wanted to. Suddenly the bar felt to hot and his plan didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. So what if Sam drink a bit. Dean felt they could all do with getting drunk a bit more often. Swallowing hard Dean tore his eyes away and knocked back his shot. Tequila laced his throat with fire that pooled in his stomach. The lemon was like an old friend caressing his mouth. Maybe Sam had it right. Tequila did make him happy.

'I came down here to talk or something girly like that but now I'm think your idea is better,' admitted Dean.

'Yeah. I don't think the world is gonna end if we have one night off from the approaching apocalypse or this whole One Tree Hill drama,' agreed Sam. His eyes were shining and his smile was a little too big.

'Dude your already buzzed! That's ok though, I love playing catch up,' winked Dean.

'Barkeep! Two more round! To not givin' a shit, eh Sammy,' smiled Dean.

Dean saw Sam's face light up and his body relax and he couldn't remember the last time he had made his baby brother smile like that. It made his heart sour and for once Dean thought maybe everything was going to be ok.


	6. Got you back

An hour later both brothers were shooting pennies into a can outside the bar, laughing loudly and exchanging slurred insults.

"Dude you are the worst shot I've ever seen!" hooted Dean falling over laughing at Sam's drunken attempt to beat his brother at penny can. Picking up another penny Sam let fly and crowed with triumph when it hit Dean dead between the eyes.

"Ha! Suck it jerk!" preened Sam, stumbling over to the garden table and retrieving the last cigarette. Lighting up, Sam pulled a long glorious drag, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before puffing out in pleasure.

Swirling to face Dean who was now seated on his ass laughing hysterically, Sam's face turned outraged. "This cigarette is so good. Why does everything good have to be bad? You can't do anything you want to without some sort of consequence. That's messed up." With a put upon sigh Sam dropped himself heavily beside his brother. "Everything is always so messed up Dean."

Hearing the mournful tone in Sam's voice Dean hastily turned to face his brother, his vision blurry and the air hot. "Don't say that Sammy. It's not. It's like so not. Trust me; you haven't seen fucked up yet," consoled Dean trying not to remember but also aching to. Resting his hand on Sam's shoulder Dean rubbed lightly trying to make Sam feel happy again. He always smiled after Dean touched him or was affectionate. Sam turned wobbly unfocused eyes on Dean. He wasn't sure what Dean had meant. He had a feeling he should understand. That Dean's words were important or significant. He was trying to focus his brain when he felt the heat of Dean's hand on his shoulder, rubbing in soft curving strokes. His heart burned at the tender gesture that was so foreign to them these days. All thoughts of Dean's words flew out of his head and he smiled, happy to just be with Dean and forget everything else.

"You're right Dean. I mean, I still have you don't I? You're here with me, really here with me. Nothing beats that." Sam nodded his head in drunken acceptance, full of happy thoughts and feeling blessed for the first him in what could only be his whole life. Looking at Dean Sam's heart skipped a beat. Dean's face was changing. He was looking at his now still hand rested on Sam's shoulder. He could clearly see Dean's flushed face in the bright light from the street laps, his expression one of longing and hunger. An echo of that hunger shot through Sam's body making him suddenly sober up and gasp in shock. He could now feel how cold the ground actually was and how hot and heavy Dean's hand felt. Like a burning desperate grip that might never let go. Sam was on the verge of feeling fear when Dean lifted his eyes to look right at him. Confusion and love stared at him through two green eyes searching for an answer.

"Shh, Dean. It's ok. I promise," whispered Sam. He laid his hand on top of Deans, anxious for Dean not to pull away. He couldn't loose him again. Tonight he had truly gotten his big brother back. Back from the hell he was sent to and the one he had made inside his own mind.

 

Dean jumped at the feel of Sam's hand on his. His heart was hammering inside his chest and every nerve in his body was hyper aware. This isn't what was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be making this happen. Sam was his baby brother, drunk and vulnerable right now. What was he doing? God I'm so wasted thought Dean ready to pull away.

"Shh, Dean. It's ok. I promise." Sam moved closer to Dean, tightening his grip on his hand. He was looking at Dean with desperate needy eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Dean's heart contracted at the sight. He was so fuck up. Look what you're doing to him! Guilt suddenly overwhelmed him, threatening to unleash the tears that he was barely keeping concealed.

"No Sammy, this is far from ok. You should keep away from me. I do nothing but hurt you. I have to leave." Dean pried his hand from Sam's grip and struggled to his feet only to land on the hard cold ground again pinned by a giant warm body. I must be pretty trashed to let Sammy get the upper hand like that. Slightly impressed but mostly annoyed Dean made a jabbed at Sam's ribs. His aim was perfect but there was no strength behind it. Before he could open his mouth in defiance Sam was moving, pinning him down with expert grace.

"No! You don't get to say that to me. You down get to leave me all alone, desperate without you, only to have you come back to me, confess you love me too and then leave me again. No Dean. Not this time. You are going to face this," growled Sam in a voice so rough and deep it sent an excited trill straight though Dean. It seemed like every length of Sam was pressed hotly against Dean's flushed body. If Dean thought he had known torture before he did now.

"You're drunk Sam. I don't need you to get all bitchy girly on me now. Just give me a break!" Dean had meant for his words to hurt and he could see them hit Sam like a physical blow. He couldn't bring himself to feel regret because he was trying to protect his little brother and Sam was very close to getting himself burned as the echo of his words resounded inside Dean's head.


	7. Precipice

Dean's words are like rock salt straight to the chest. Sam had thought they were ok. He had thought they were more than ok, that they were better. Dean's words had sliced through that. We will never be ok, thought Sam in despair. Those words were on the tip of his tongue when Sam met Dean's eyes. He had been struggling with no success to get up and had only managed to trap himself more with his back firmly pressed to the ground and Sam's weight locking his hips down.

Eyes meeting, Sam held his breath. Dean was such a fake. He has always pulling the hard punches. Make them hurt a little now rather than a lot later, right Dean? Sam could see clearly for the first time right through him. Dean's words were as empty as the bottle of tequila they had just had. He didn't mean a word of it. He was scared. Is he scared of me or for me? The answer stared at him from two beautiful green eyes. Both...

"I mean it this time Dean. You're going to look at me and face what this is." Sam moved his hands slowly, easing the pressure until he was loosely trapping Dean's wrists together above his head.

"I'm not scared of it Dean. I'm not scared" whispered Sam rubbing his thumb gently over the pulse leaping beneath Dean's skin. He could feel the soft tremors running through Dean's body and his body felt like it was on fire.

There wasn't enough air between them and they gasped for oxygen. Sam felt like he was on the precipice of something exciting, he just needed to jump off and let go. Follow the hot thread tugging at his heart. It was frightening. He couldn't do it alone. He needed to know Dean was with him. He needed Dean.

 

Dean tried to stay focused. If he could just manoeuvre a little bit more he'd be free. If he could just keep his mind on this one task he could prevent losing his brother forever. If Sam wasn't touching him there, if he wasn't pressed against him right there than maybe they would have had a chance to stop this but Sam was assaulting all of his senses. The feel of him straddling his hips heavy and perfect like he knew they would be sent shivers through him. The smell of his shaggy hair and clammy skin suffocated him, making him want to taste. The sound of Sammy saying his name over and over again in that strung out needy voice of his weakened his resolve. He couldn't help it.

He looked right into his baby brother's eyes and saw the question; the confusion and god damn it the need Sammy was begging of Dean. It was like he was looking at another part of himself. A younger, less aware self who wanted, wanted something so bad but just didn't know how. What he needed was a little push.

Dean didn't hesitate because he couldn't deny Sam what he was asking for with his eyes and his hands. Sam's gentle touch on Dean's wrists spoke volumes how he felt. Dean didn't hesitate because god forgive me he didn't want to.

Leaning up with his whole body Dean captured Sam's awaiting parted lips with his own, his excited breath swallowed in an instant. Hot desire seared his mind and spurred his will. Dean plundered Sam's mouth greedily and moaned in ecstasy when his tongue met Sam's, wet and insanely inviting. Sam was no longer holding Dean down, no longer struggled to restrain but pulling him closer, clinging, matching Dean at every turn.

The first touch of lips was intoxicating. A sweet forbidden treasure Sam hadn't known he'd wanted. He felt like a starving man finally allowing himself to eat. It felt good and right and so hot Sam was afraid he was going to come just from the taste of Dean's mouth. Sam was drunk with fire, sparks of lust electrifying him every time Dean's tongue brushed his. Dean's tongue, Dean's hands, Dean, just the thought of Dean and Sam's control snapped completely. Grinding his hips hard against Dean's Sam rode a pleasure so intense he cried out, breaking their kiss. Their eyes met, wide and hungry.


	8. Is this real?

Dean could feel the firm press of Sam's erection against his and his shivering body burning fiercely in his arms. Was this real? Am I still in hell, will it end any second now? Dean couldn't think straight. He couldn't tell if this was the real Sam or just another trick from Alistair. Had he ever really gotten out of hell or was this some really screwed up long con? No, Dean had done what Alistair had asked of him, he had been broken. Dean would have done anything to keep his fantasy; Alistair just had to ask it of him. This still can't be real.

Urgent hands slid through his hair, begging for his attention. Sam's wet tongue captured his ear lobe and nibbled it until Dean was ready to erupt.

"Please Dean, let me," panted Sam. "Just let me do this."

Sam's voice was turning desperate, broken. Sam was blowing his mind. Dean wanted to so badly it was killing him but something was holding him back. He wasn't sure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do and god did he ever know what Sam wanted to do but he couldn't make himself do it. The erotic cry from Sam's voice as their hips had met had turned Dean on so much his vision was tinted red. Yet it had brought him back so fast to the here and now his body was still in shock from the impact. They were on the cold ground outside of the most run down bar Dean had ever seen and he had seen a lot. Sam was straddling him, his breath tinged with alcohol and cigarettes. They can't do this. Not like this. Not here, not now. Sammy deserved better than this.

This wasn't the memory he wanted of their first time. God he wanted a first time with Sam, and a second and a million. He couldn't pretend anymore after tonight that he didn't. But Sam was all kinds of messed up right now. Dean knew that he hadn't really been there for Sam for the last month, too caught up with his own shit. Sam was probably so starved for any kind of recognition from Dean that they were still brothers and there for each other he'd do almost anything to make Dean happy. That was the rational explanation for what Sam was doing right now with his tongue in his ear. Yet not knowing if that was the case meant Dean had to stop. He did stop. Pulling back away from his seducing brother Dean flinched from the disapproving moan that followed.

"Not here, Sammy," lied Dean. Maybe not ever, he added to himself. He disentangled himself and stood up on shaky legs, pulling Sam along with him.

"We're going back to the motel, its brass monkeys out here." He put his arm around Sam worrying over his silence. Please just go with me on this, he silently begged Sam but didn't dare say it out loud. Sam leaned into him and all Dean's worries flew to the back of his mind. He held onto him and enjoyed the feel of him in his arms. It had been to long since they had touched in this way. Dean had missed Sam so much. Too bad he wanted to touch him in different ways just as much.


	9. Forever

Sam kept his mouth shut and followed Dean home. It hadn't taken them long and Sam wasn't really listening to what Dean was saying because he was lost in a world of his own. That kiss had ended him. He wasn't Sam Winchester, baby brother anymore. He was Sammy, the sick fuck who wanted his brother in all the wrong ways and was just realising it. And he didn't give a damn.

Dean was blabbering on trying to put a hold on this for his sake. Sam knew his brother very well. He knew how his mind worked and he was glad Dean had pressed pause on them because he was planning on doing things to Dean that called for a far more private location. This wasn't over, he decided. Not by a long shot.

His heart was thundering in his chest and he couldn't stop looking at Dean's arms as he moved around the room. Everything was making so much sense to him. Like when he was little he only ever wanted to be with Dean and how jealous he got over his little flings with every bar floozy that crossed their paths. His whole preoccupation with Dean all through Stanford was so clear to him now. He would see Dean everywhere. In the cafeteria or walking down the street or those few times when his face would appear while making love to Jess. He had thought he just missed him like crazy but now he was realising it for what it was.

Of course he hadn't been disgusted by Dean's confession. That feeling plaguing him the past month had been hope and excitement.

Sam's head snapped up as he heard the sound of running water. Dean's in the shower..naked! Suddenly his hard on was back in full force. You're going down big brother. Sam didn't care what kind of plans Dean had made about them, he was going to blow them all to hell.

 

Dean wasn't paying attention to anything but the soap in his hands and the tune in his head. It felt good to be clean and warm again. It felt good to rub the soap over his strung out body and think about Sam's hands touching him. His moans fell into rhythm with the song he's singing. It all felt very good, a perfect release of want. He didn't realise for a long time that the hands stroking his thighs weren't his own. The erection against his ass is what brought him out of his fantasy and jerking away from the bite stinging his shoulder.

"Sammy what are you.."

A firm mouth landed on his cutting off his protests. Sam's tongue was in his mouth an instant later, demanding his obedience. It wasn't fair, it left no discussion. Dean couldn't fight it and his resolve was fading fast.

"Touch me, Dean" ordered Sam.

"Look at me, touch me and see how much I want this. Not for you Dean but fuck it for me. I've wanted this long before you showed me I did."

Dean saw it in his eyes. The look Sam had been sending him for fifteen odd years now but would never admit what it was. Desire surged through him and he kissed Sam back with so much force he slammed with a grunt against the shower wall.

It was rough and hard and needy. Both brothers raped each other's mouth, biting at each other's lips. The taste of Sam was intoxicating. He smelled of hunger, sweat and home. Dean licked a path down his throat, stopping to suck on his collarbone, enticed by the delicious sounds Sam was making. Dean wanted to wreck him, to feel every part of Sam, to know him as no one has ever known him. Unable to resist Dean slid to his knees, the water beating down on his head as he kissed the taunt skin just below Sam's navel. A shudder ran though his baby brother's body and the sounds he was making were borderline pornographic.

"You're mine," growled Dean before finally taking Sam into his mouth.

He didn't last long. Not surprising with how skilled his brother was at sucking him off. Dean lifted his head up and down Sam's shaft, his cheeks hollowed in, working him for all he was worth. Strangled cried erupted form Sam's throat as Dean's tongue brushed the tip of his head and swallowed him down again. The feel of Dean's fingers caressing his balls threw him off the edge and Dean was drinking him down, moaning around his cock which sent a delicious aftershock through his body.

Sam sagged to the floor and kissed Dean deeply, happiness flowing to his fingertips. He looked into his brothers eyes and smiled as Dean licked his lips clean.

"I'm yours" he agreed, his heart singing as he kissed Dean again and wrapped his hand around his brother's throbbing cock.

The water was turning cold but Sam couldn't feel it. He could only feel Dean on his lap, his arms clinging to him as he trembled in pleasure. He listened to his name being ripped from Dean's body begging him not to stop, scratching his back and bruising his neck with his mouth. Sam would carry Dean's mark on his body for days and on his soul for longer. Promises were made and Sam claimed Dean as his own with a final twist of his wrist.

 

"Forever," breathed Dean later.

"For fucking ever," promised Sam before claiming Dean all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok that's my story. I'm sorry some of the chapters are ridiculously short. I hope you enjoyed it. It's my first fanfic ever. It had it posted on fanfiction.net


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